


Stunt

by AngelicSentinel



Series: almost, your kiss [15]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Identity Reveal, Injury, Japanese Mythology & Folklore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-11-16 07:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11248701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelicSentinel/pseuds/AngelicSentinel
Summary: Kaito closes his eyes and waits for the inevitable as his face is laid bare. Her soft fingers probe the contours of his face, searching, searching.She lets out a gasp, a sort of choked sob, and he winces, working his jaw. He opens his eyes to find her hands over her mouth, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. “Itisyou,” she says through her fingers.





	Stunt

**Author's Note:**

> **Kiss Prompt 13:** Following the kiss with a series of kisses down the neck

“Kaito?!” Aoko screeches as she takes off his hat and sees his face. She shakes her head. “No, you can’t be. You just can’t be. You’re Kaitou Kid pretending! Take off that disguise!”

Kaito opens his mouth, perhaps to quip something about her observational skills, when pain lances through his side and he falls to his knees with a groan, clutching at his side. His hand comes away with red coating his glove.

“Kaitou Kid?” Aoko asks, coming closer.

Kaito stands shakily, putting one hand in his pocket. Then as he takes a step, a fresh wave of pain runs through his side, and he nearly falls over, letting out a gasp but for Aoko moving under his arm to brace him. It hurts too much to speak.

Her eyes flicker to the blood soaking through his coat, and they move to the wall, where she leans him against it. She scans his face, her hand reaching up. Kaito is still hatless, but she runs her fingers down the side of his face, pinching lightly.

Kaito can’t do anything but look at her, eyes pained, waiting for the inevitable. Aoko’s hands are shaking, but she reaches for the monocle, pausing just for a moment before removing it from his eye ridge.

Kaito closes his eyes and waits for the inevitable as his face is laid bare. Her soft fingers probe the contours of his face, searching, searching.

She lets out a gasp, a sort of choked sob, and he winces, working his jaw. He opens his eyes to find her hands over her mouth, tears welling up in the corner of her eyes. “It _is_ you,” she says through her fingers.

He plucks the monocle from her hand, moves carefully to pick up his hat and place it back on his head, monitoring the floor carefully for any more blood from his wound. He adjusts the equipment inside his interior pockets, packing his knotted scarves over the wound to keep the blood from dripping. All this, silent as the grave. What can he say to her? Nothing. He has no excuses. No quick wit, no quip. Not now.

They make it through the first rooms fine, quietly, speaking only when needed, silence occasionally broken by muffled sniffles. By the time they reach the end, Kaito can only say one thing: “Aoko,” he says conversationally, leaning against the wall. “I think,” he pants, “I may have overestimated my capacity for pain.”

The world swims; his vision blurs. Kaito’s eyes roll into the back of his head as the world turns black. “Kaito!” Aoko shouts as he’s falling, falling.

He does catch sight of certain white fabric as he hits the floor, though. “White…” he says, which makes a tearful Aoko choke out a surprised laugh.

“Idiot Kaito, you don’t ever change, do you?”  is the last thing he hears, her name the last thing on his lips.

“Aoko…I,” he begins. He doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be an apology, a confession of his love. He passes out before he has a chance to figure it out. 

He doesn’t expect to wake, but he does. They’re in some kind of building, Kaito doesn’t recognise the place. It is a traditional room with screens and he’s laying on tatami. He can hear the susurrus of a fountain and the wooden thunk of bamboo from a deer scare.

He tries to sit up, but his side hurts too much and he falls back down. He makes it on the second try. He runs his fingers over his wound, probing gently. He can’t see it, but it’s been stitched up. One of the paper doors slides open. It’s a pale beauty with long, raven hair, unbound and nearly to the floor. Her _furisode_ is a brilliant red and patterned richly, her obi a pale moon grey. She’s dressed like a rich old-fashioned lady, save for the hair.

“You’re already up!” she says. “I’ll go get the young mistress!”

“Wait!” Kaito calls out, but she’s already gone, and it’s hard for him to move. He can’t do anything but lay there, helpless.

She returns soon with Aoko in a pretty blue _furisode_ , her hair done up with _kanzashi:_ comb and sticks and silk blossoms and bun and bells. “Kaito!” she cries out. The bells in her hair ring. She takes hurried, delicate steps, kneels in front of him, gathers him into her arms. Her kimono is made from the finest silk, easily worth hundreds of thousands of yen, if not millions. The lady in red leaves quietly.

“Aoko, what is—”

“Don’t you ever dare do that to Aoko again!” she chides, her arms around him. The cool silk of her long sleeves feels heavenly against his bare back. “If it hadn’t been for Natsuki-sama and Suzume-hime, we’d be in trouble.”

“You’re not angry?” he ventures cautiously, wrapping his arms around her gingerly in turn.

“Aoko is _furious_ ,” Aoko says with the fiercest glare she can muster. “Aoko is furious but Kaito is hurt, so Aoko will go easy on him for now.” She looks away. “You lied and made fun of Aoko.”

“It,” he licks his lips. “It wasn’t like that, Aoko. My old man—” And then he freezes, unsure what to say.

“Natsuki-sama told Aoko,” Aoko says. “She’s been watching everything this whole time. She told Aoko everything. About Touichi-oji, about _everything_.”

“How does she know?” Kaito says, instantly defensive.

“She says you both have been searching for her,” Aoko says.

Natsuki can be written as “vegetable” and “moon,” or it can be written as “summer” and “hope.” Kaito’s mouth goes dry. Hope. The only thing left in Pandora’s storage jar. “You can’t mean that.”

“Aoko does.”

“How?”

Aoko looks into his eyes, confrontational. “A wish made in desperation.”

Kaito looks around again, casting new eyes on everything. “Where are we?” he asks quietly.

“Princess Suzume’s Inn,” Aoko says. “We are guests.”

“How did we get here?”

“It’s a long story.”

“You don’t mean we’re dead?” Kaito says.

Aoko shakes her head. The bells ring again. “No, though Natsuki-sama was saying that Fukurokuju-sama owes her a favour. But they managed to stop the bleeding in time.”

Kaito realises his arms are still wrapped around Aoko and he goes to pull away. She doesn't let him.

“Aoko?”

“Aoko thought Kaito might be gone for good,” Aoko says, laying her head over his shoulder, tightening her grip. “Aoko couldn’t let you die,” she murmurs against his skin. She presses her lips against his shoulder, and Kaito can’t breathe. “Not until you had a chance to explain.”

“Oh, is that all?” he asks, voice low and breathless.

“No,” she says, still too close. She leaves small featherlight kisses across the top of his shoulder, at the juncture of his neck. Her lips _burn_.

They move up his neck, Kaito tilting his head back. “ _Ah_ ,” he breathes as she kisses him, then tastes the salt of his skin. Up, up, up, she moves until her lips capture his.

She pulls away after a long moment, then blushes at her boldness. Still, she says, “Aoko thinks Kaitou Kid is why Kaito was distant to Aoko. But Aoko knows now, so Kaito should date Aoko.”

Kaito can’t help it; he grins. “And Aoko wouldn’t mind dating Kaito?”

“Kaito has lots of things to make up to Aoko, so the sooner the better,” Aoko says with a sniff.

“Then Kaito will, so long as Aoko doesn’t mind kissing him again.”

Aoko smiles “Aoko doesn’t mind.”

And so she leans over and kisses him again.


End file.
